Death's Child
by all animals are equal but some
Summary: Seven years before, Nico di Angelo had lost his only friend to a strange entity. Every night, he has the same dream, a memory that refuses to fade. In his second year, he expects the same- getting beaten by classmates, hit by random objects- the usual. The rest of the summary has been cut out. I'm leaving this so that people can laugh at me.
1. A Failed Ritual

**Disclaimer- I do not own the Camp Half-Blood series. They are Rick Riordan's works.**

_ "Lord Satan, by your grace, grant me..."_

_The living room was dark except for the orange glow of the five candles that stood at the rim of the circle. Inside it was the Day Star, drawn in red chalk. The circle itself had oil sprinkled onto it, slowly mixing into the candles continued to burn, small drops of wax occasionally dripping onto the floor. At the other side of the house, two adults and a ten year old girl were fast asleep in their beds, one in a mattress, unaware of what was happening outside their room. _

_At each side of the circle was a boy of about eight. One, a short, pale child, was reading from a scroll, its edges yellowed from age. In his other hand was a black iron dagger, the hilt a blinding silver. Setting the knife on the ground, he raised a hand to his head, brushing his black wavy bangs from his eyes, his brown irises filled with determination. On the other side was a boy with wavy blonde hair. He chanted along with his friend, both of his hands clutching his scroll. In the center of the circle was a cornered mouse, its black beady eyes filled with fear. It had been scampering about the streets earlier this morning, not expecting what was to come of it._

_"...I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind..."_

_Minutes of chanting went by as the adults continued to sleep, and finally, the black-haired boy's voice grew louder with excitement as they reached the bottom of the scroll. His friend glared at him, warning him silently to not wake up their parents. He nodded, and together they finished the prayer._

_"... Lord Satan, may you deem me worthy, Father!"_

_The black-haired boy raised his dagger, and, with a murderous gleam in his eyes, plunged it into the mouse's chest. It let out a brief squeal as it made contact with the black metal, and in seconds, it was limp, its life force having been ended. Almost immediately, the circle glowed a dark red, and the candles went out. The boys let out a high-pitched scream as the circle burst into flames, somehow not setting the rest of the floor on fire. The flames rose, and formed a humanoid figure where the circle stood._

_"Nico!" The blonde boy's expression was that of fright as he yelled over the roar of the fire. "How on earth did you think this was a good idea?"_

_Nico glanced at the boy next to him. "Pssh, don't be so worried, Solace. We're going to have fun-"_

_"NICO!"_

_"Oh, shut up, Will."_

_As the boys turned to the figure, the flames were extinguished, leaving a man in black robes. His eyes were the same shade of brown as Nico, his skin just as pale. He was obviously older, a long beard protruding from his chin. The man was in the middle of removing his headgear, a helmet with intricate carvings of death. Once the helmet was gone, he faced the children, and the blonde boy jumped back, crashing into the wall. Nico stood there clutching his dagger, a hint of amusement showing on his face._

_Will was the first to speak. "Satan?" he asked in a trembling voice. He stood behind Nico, peering at the man from behind his friend's back._

_"No," the man spoke in a deep voice, and Nico could sense the room getting darker. "That is not my name."_

_Will backed away in fear. "Get away from me, you demon spawn!" In response, the strange intruder only glared at him._

_Ripping off his necklace, Will examined the cross on it, before swinging it and flinging it at him. Immediately, Nico covered his eyes. He knew Will was making a huge mistake. "Solace!" Nico told him in a firm voice. "Don't-"_

_Ignoring him, Will's brows furrowed in anger. "In the name of Christ, I banish you from this house. Go to wherever hell place you belong!" He walked up to the man, and, without hesitation, rammed his fist into his face._

_Strangely, though, the intruder was transparent. Roaring, he raised his arms, and a white hand poked out of the ground. As it revealed the rest of itself, Nico realized it was a skeleton. Before Will could scream, it ran at him, and grabbed him, the skeletal hand covering his mouth. Laughing hysterically, the entity drew a sword from his cloak, and making large strides at Will, swung it, the blade getting closer and closer to his neck. Meanwhile, the blonde boy was shaking his head, trying desperately to escape, to no avail._

_His heart racing. Nico began to run, his hands reaching for Will. If he could just get there before the blade touched him-_

_It was too late. The lengthy, sharp slab of iron had cut into his friend's throat, who gasped and collapsed onto the ground, grasping at his neck. With a cackle, the man vanished in a puff of black and dark purple powder, along with the ritual setup._

_"Will..." Nico was beyond the point of tears now. He could only watch as his only friend bled to death, his body suddenly crumbling into ash and dissolving to hell knows where._

"Will!"

I gasp and throw my covers aside, then whip my head from side to side. I exhale. The Mythomagic figures on the floor and the posters tell me I am still in my room, where I was last conscious. Scratching my head, I curl up in a ball and look up at the windows, the dreadful sunlight flooding into my room. Annoyed, I pull my drapes over them.

It's been seven years since Will died. I still think of him, and each night, the same dream comes to me. Every morning, as I rise from my consciousness, I wonder what that man is doing to him. I can't bear the thought of him strapped to some chair, having his head chopped of repeatedly, or drowning in a pool of lava. As cheerful and sunny as he was, he was still my best friend. He wasn't like those other guys, who would tease me mercilessly, mainly about the Mythomagic figurines I kept stashed in my bag.

We never should've done that stupid ritual. I wonder how he's doing now...

Suddenly, I hear a series of knocks on my door.

"Nico!" My sister's soft voice is muffled through the wide slab of wood.

"Coming..." I groan and rise from my bed, trying my hardest to leave my area of comfort. Finally, I manage to make it out the door and into the kitchen, where Bianca is waiting.

"Are you excited?" she asks, a hint of cheerfulness in her voice. I roll my eyes, knowing perfectly well she knows what answer she will get.

"No," I grumble, then proceed to rant. "You think I want to go to that school again? All the guys there are jerks. All they talk about is how I'm not -ahem- _manly-_ enough and I'm a f*g. You think being in my school is fun? It's not, and you wouldn't know because you're not in my school."

Normally, my sister would get upset, and for a moment, I begin to feel sorry for her. Instead, she laughs. "Are you bringing your knife?"

"Maybe." I grab the front door and flash her a smile. "Sorry, I have to go. I want to get there before they find me. I'm not risking another set of bruises this year. Bye!" Before Bianca can say anything, I escape from the house, running down the stairs and down the sidewalk. As soon as I disappear from her view, my grin fades, and my face darkens. Reaching into my backpack, I check for my dagger. As usual, it is tucked at the bottom. Grabbing it, I fish it out.

I scan the streets. Luckily, no pedestrians from my school are seen. However, I must take precautions.

Slipping the knife into my pocket, I sling my backpack over my shoulder, and my eyes squint in determination. I'm not letting anyone harass me. Not this year.

I continue to walk, my hand occasionally slipping into my pocket and feeling the hilt of the dagger.


	2. Concussions, Chaos and Gunshots

**Disclaimer- I do not own the Camp Half-Blood series. They are Rick Riordan's works**

**I apologize for the extremely late update. I will not post new chapters very often. (That applies to all of my stories)**

The soft wind ruffles my hair as I make my way down the street. Occasionally, my head turns and stares at the minuscule house about a hundred yards away. My sister is too far to be seen, but I know she is watching me, waiting for my figure to disappear around the block before she enters the house. As I check the streets one final time, I see that they are, again, empty. _Perfect. _The sky is a dark blue, and the glowing white orb remains floating in the sky, illuminating the world around me.

About ten minutes- or so I think- pass, and my footsteps come to a stop. Raising my arm to eye level, I check my watch. _6:30_. _Dammit. _At this time, most people will have woken, including my fellow classmates, who I imagine will be anticipating to pounce on me the moment they lay hands on me. A few streaks of sweat coming down my neck, I go faster, now walking at a brisk pace. There's still an hour and a half to the start of class, but I have to get there as soon as possible. I can't risk-

Suddenly, a mysterious force tugs on my hood, and I collapse, yelping as the back of my head hits the hard concrete. I quickly check my limbs, realizing with relief that I have no injuries, though I can see a light bruise on my arm. My skull throbs with pain, and I sit up, attempting to stand before a set of hands push me onto the ground again.

Looming above me is a guy with red, straight hair. His pale face is fixed with a look of disgust, making me back away from him, holding out my hands. I recognize him immediately as one of the hooligans from my school. When I see his raise his fist, a surge of panic conquers my body, and before he can attack, I am on my feet. Clutching my backpack, I run, paying little attention to the pedestrians I am knocking over.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, I leap into the street. As I make my way across, a truck honks violently and skids to a stop, before continuing on its way once I am out of its path. When I make it to the other side (of the sidewalk, mind you) I grab a street pole, and take a moment to catch my breath.

Unfortunately, it takes several minutes for me to regain my strength, and once I set off again, the redheaded guy has caught up with me. I stop for a moment to grab a stone, and hurl it at him, not daring to risk a glance as I continue on my way. As I force my legs to carry me another hundred yards, I notice a glimpse of sun making its way up the sky. At the same time, the silhouette of a building comes into view. I pick up my pace, and the structure gradually increases in size until I am standing at a marble staircase, the building towering above me.

"Hey! I'm not done with you!"

I spin around, and to my horror, the redhead is standing a few feet from me, a purple textbook in his arms. My eyes widen, knowing there may be no escape for me. Frantically, I plunge my hand into my pocket, only to realize my knife is gone. I turn to climb the stairs, just as he tosses the textbook, which collides with my head. My sight is abruptly shrouded in black, and my consciousness fades.

* * *

"What exactly do you think you're doing here?" A harsh, male voice jolts me awake, exposing my eyes to an uncomfortably bright dose of sunlight. Groggily, I stand, blinking several times. A man with slicked-back raven hair and glasses is glaring at me, looking up and down as I brush the dirt off my clothes. I say nothing as he continues, shaking his head.

"Second year of high school, and yet you clearly lack the potential to survive after you're done with school." The man whips out a clipboard and scribbles a few notes, and clears his throat. "Do you really think you can just show up two hours late and expect to be let off?"

I stay silent.

"Answer me."

I manage to muster one word. "N-no."

"Excuse me?"

I frown. "That was a yes or no question, was it not?" I explain further, causing the man to cross his arms and roll his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. "And you expected me to reply 'no', did you not? Why are you the principal, if you don't understand that?"

The principal scoffs and leaves, and I stomp up the stairs, my eyes filled with a mixture of annoyance and anger. Reaching the entrance door, I pull the handle, and storm into the auditorium, where a woman is speaking on the microphone. Upon my entrance, she stops speaking, and the rows of eyes turn to me. My own eyes dart around, and turning red, I choose the nearest seat and walk over. As I am about to sit, however, a hand pushes me away. The owner of said hand is a boy of about the same age. "Get away from me, homo!" he says, and glaring at me, smacks me with a ruler.

I wince from the sharp sting and move a few seats back, making sure to put up my backpack between us.

Once the confusion dies down, the woman resumes talking. "Your teachers will be introduced later..." My focus drifts from her voice as I look around. Behind me is a familiar-looking boy. When I take a closer look, I realize it is him. That jerk who knocked me out earlier. I hiss at him, and in return, he sneers at me, gesturing at me to his friends, all wearing hoodies, each of a different color. The symbols on them... for some reason, the symbols catch my interest.

ξενηρψηλααεεξυυσσταυρσ

From the looks of it, I can immediately tell it is Greek. Normally, I never bother with reading. I mean, I know what the alphabet is. But whenever I attempt to read a sentence in English, my brain seems to malfunction. The words float of the page. Symbols get mixed up. My mother took me to a psychologist a couple years back, and they figured that I had dyslexia. However, I am struck with a sudden curiosity, a desire to figure out what those letters mean.

To my surprise, I begin to spell out the symbols, almost against my will. "C...E...N...H...R-"

"What the f*ck are you looking, homo?" snaps one of them. The rest of the group sniggers, and I look away, embarrassed. Overwhelmed with humiliation, I decide to focus on the woman, who is still speaking. Sitting up, I adjust my shirt, and try to stay still, as she continues her speech.

At that moment, a loud bang startles the audience, and for a while, no one dares to say a word. Suddenly, the auditorium erupts into a chorus of shrieks, as everyone scrambles to find the source of the noise. Was it a gunshot? Leaving my backpack behind, I jump out of my seat, joining the panicking crowd. It was then that we hear a voice.

"Come here!" At the front of the room is a teenage boy. He is frantically waving his arms, pointing to the stage. "Someone shot her!" All heads turn to him, and the screaming continues, if not growing louder.

The woman is lying on the stage, her eyes glassy. She is breathing heavily, her expression one of fear and shock. As everyone comes to their senses, the only sound in the auditorium is her gasps, gradually getting fainter. One of her legs hangs from the edge as she slowly slides off, eventually dropping on the ground. I'm not close to the stage, but everyone seems to notice it.

It would've been difficult to miss the wound in her chest, the blood quickly soaking her blouse.


End file.
